


Let it Burn

by Kittenshift17



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: All the dragons, Angst, Dragons, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fire, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Healthy Relationships, Hot Burn, Love Triangle, Magi-zoology, Romance, Sid has issues, Slight Pain Kink, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, awkward mating dances, but only after torturing everyone involved with the long wait, but with some yelling, dragon sanctuary, eventually resovled sexual tention, inferno romance, kind of, more dragons, scar kink, seriously, supervisor/trainee, we don't ask about those
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27662981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittenshift17/pseuds/Kittenshift17
Summary: When Ron finally moves on from Hermione, she is free to pursue the man she's been fascinated by since fourth year. Transferring to Romania to work alongside Charlie Weasley in Dragonsmeade, Hermione is in for a learning curve regarding three things. The true heat of dragon fire, the burning hatred of a lover scorned, and the slow, smouldering incineration of a man's love.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Charlie Weasley
Comments: 58
Kudos: 185





	1. Fire-Whiskey

**Author's Note:**

> Another acorn I've had squirrelled away for a while now. I hope you like it. xx-Kitten.

The first time she'd really seen him had been in fourth year when he'd come to Hogwarts as part of the party escorting the dragons needed for the first Triwizard Tournament task. He'd been racing around the side of a cage containing an irate Chinese Fireball, almost getting himself roasted in the process and looking like he was having the time of his life. Everyone else had been shouting and yelling, barking out orders and trying to calm the furious beast who'd been parted from her eggs and hauled halfway across the world.

Not him. He'd been laughing. His long red hair had come loose of its ponytail, the dragon-fang earring that hung from his right ear – to match the identical one his elder brother wore in his left ear – swung wildly and he'd been dressed in protective leather Dragon Tamer gear that made him look like he hadn't a care in the world.

She remembered watching him then and feeling a little awed. He was older than her. Confident in his job as a Dragon Tamer and having the time of his life as he laughed and tried to sweet-talk an egg-crazed Chinese Fireball into not roasting him to a crisp. It had been clear to her in a heartbeat that he wasn't the type of boy who shied away from danger or took warnings to heart. He was a true Gryffindor. Reckless. Daring. And willing to do just about anything that looked like it might be fun, even if it was a truly terrible idea.

When she'd been just fifteen years old, Charlie Weasley had looked the epitome of masculinity and, who was she kidding, he'd looked hot as hell doing it too. When she'd been introduced to him by a proud Ron and Ginny, Hermione had smiled widely and asked him about the burn scar she'd spotted across the top of his right forearm that he'd shaken her hand with. And he'd laughed when he'd told her about it. He'd been wild-eyed in a way that she'd never seen anyone else look before.

Not in any way that made him look insane or terrified. No, Charlie had such an intensity to him that it had taken her breath away. She remembered the number of times she'd accompanied Ron and Ginny into Charlie's presence when he'd been working with the dragons at the school in her fourth year, looking on in admiration and more than a little lust with the intense Dragon Tamer.

She hadn't seen him for a few years after fourth year. He'd been working for the Order and recruiting in Romania through most of that time and so hadn't been able to get home during the times when she'd been at the Burrow or at Grimmauld Place. Indeed, the next time Hermione had seen Charlie Weasley had been at Bill and Fleur's wedding, where he'd been best-man to Bill and had been annoyed most of the evening thanks to Molly forcibly insisting he cut his hair brutally short. At the time, Hermione remembered thinking that he looked like she imagined dragon-fire would feel. Sinfully hot and smouldering with raw, coiled power. Even with the loathed haircut, he'd looked like he'd been made for rough-housing with wild beasts and like he'd have no trouble wrestling one petite witch into bed with him.

Merlin, back then the intensity of his gaze and a well-placed request would have been enough to get her into bed with him.

Six years and a war hadn't changed that fact. She watched him over the rim of her glass where he drank with his colleagues at the only bar onsite at the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary in Dragonsmeade, laughing and joking as they drank away their Sunday evening. He was like a dragon himself, Hermione thought; a dangerous, unpredictable beast as likely to turn on her and roast her alive as he was to allow her to get close. Yet so intriguing, so intense and so breathtaking that she wanted to get close and feel just how much fire he had inside of him.

She wanted to be close enough to run her fingers through that red hair he'd grown long again since his brother's wedding. It hung almost-straight and gleaming in the firelight of the bar, tied by a leather throng that was coming undone and unleashing those fiery strands. The warm summer air had seen him donning a sleeveless leather tunic, revealing the number of burns, scars and dragon tattoos that littered his arms and shoulders. She wanted to be close enough to toy with the dragon-fang earring that hung from his right earlobe – an accessory, she'd been told, he and Bill had each donned when he'd been on a Dragon Hunt in Egypt three years into his Dragon Tamer career.

She didn't know all the details but she knew the earrings involved a dragon hunt gone wrong, an Egyptian princess and enough fire-whiskey to kill almost anything. They'd taken some kind of pact to keep their secret and protect one another and Hermione knew each brother wore the earring proudly, despite their mother's griping about it whenever they were in England with the rest of the family.

The hair and the earring only made him look more dangerous in Hermione's opinion. More unpredictable. More like a dragon himself. He wore those burns and scars like badges of honour. He didn't try to hide them and Hermione doubted he'd ever allowed a medi-witch to treat them with dittany or any other potion that might take those scars away. He'd told her once that he'd earned every single one of his scars when he touched the fire and the way he'd said it made her think it meant so much more than simply being burned. As though he believed that the marks were truly something to be proud over. The way he'd said he'd 'touched the fire' had made her shiver when she'd been fifteen and naïve.

At twenty-four, Hermione had more of an idea about the types of heat and the types of fire the world had on offer and she got the feeling that Charlie Weasley lived to touch them all. The burn of a good strong whiskey. The fire of a woman's flesh under his hands or his tongue. The fierce burning need to run his fingers over dragon scales despite the danger.

When she'd met him for the second time at the wedding, Hermione had been just seventeen and in love with his younger brother; but even then she'd been aware that Charlie Weasley was the embodiment of everything she wanted. His body was long and lean, coiled with wiry muscle. There was something about the way he held himself that made him look dangerous, like a coiled spring just waiting to snap free. A dragon waiting to lunge at an unsuspecting victim, bathing them in his fire and sinking his fangs into their flesh.

His friends and colleagues were dressed much the same way and were similarly scarred and tattooed, but there was something about Charlie that held her attention over the others. She couldn't describe it. Not really. All she knew was that every time she looked at him, she felt like he'd lit a fire in her belly and seared her with the heat he seemed to give off in waves. It was like he started an inferno in her blood and Hermione couldn't deny the craving that burned through her.

She wanted him.

She'd wanted him for a long time. He'd asked her to dance at Bill and Fleur's wedding and Hermione was ashamed to say she'd been a little too eager to say yes. Too eager for the girl who was supposed to be in love with his brother, anyway. There was just something about him that stood out.

Maybe it was the scars and tattoos. Maybe it was those wild brown eyes that looked at life like it were a wild dragon he wanted to take on. Maybe it was the way, when she'd asked him about his work, he'd lit up. The smoulder he exhibited in general had burned brighter than the sun and hotter than dragonfire ever could. Hermione was sure she'd never met anyone so passionate about anything in all her life.

He lived for the dragons he tamed. He lived for the thrill of the hunt when they went out to capture a beast terrorising a town or wounded in battle and needing attention. He lived for the adrenaline rush of touching a live dragon. He lived a life Hermione had never imagined anyone could.

She herself knew a thing or two about adrenaline. More than once in her life as the best friend of Harry Potter, Hermione had enjoyed the thrill of being inches from death. She knew what it was to fly by the seat of her pants, deep in the heart of danger with no clue of how they were going to make it out alive. But that didn't compare to the life Charlie lived. He played with the world's most dangerous beasts for fun. He tamed them. He captured them and cared for them.

He intrigued her.

Hermione threw back her shot of fire-whiskey and waved her glass at the bartender, silently requesting another. She was working up the courage to go over and talk to Charlie. She'd seen him many times since seeing him at the wedding. During the war and in the aftermath of it, Charlie had been at the Burrow through it all. He'd helped to pull them all back together after Fred's death. He'd fixed his mother cups of tea when she would sink into her despair and cry.

He'd grip his father's shoulder tight and stand steadfast and strong when being so strong for his family wore Arthur down. He'd send Bill home to Fleur, insisting the man shag his wife and pull his life back together, trying to sweet-talk Bill into giving their mother a grandchild to fuss over that would better take her mind off her dead son. He'd drink with George until the tears would start and then he'd hold the bereft twin to him in a tight embrace, laughing and joking with him, whispering in his brother's ear about the things Fred would be doing in the after-life and the mischief he'd be making on the other side.

When the drinking got too much he'd snatch the bottle away from George and ensure he didn't drink himself into the afterlife to be with his brother. He'd encouraged Ron to follow his dreams of being an Auror when the Ministry had made the offer for Harry and Ron to begin their training. He'd even sat and had a frank discussion with Hermione about whether she should take the Ministry up on their offer as well or if there was something else she wanted to do, encouraging her to go back to school and finish her NEWTs when she'd said that was what she wanted.

He had pulled Percy out of his guilt and his grief over Fred's loss, sparking intellectual debates with his younger brother that would rile Percy up and make him forget for a little while what a ponce he'd been to the rest of the family during the war. And then there'd been Ginny. Ginny was more like Charlie than any of her other brothers and she'd taken up the stead of Weasley matriarch when Molly broke down. But even she had needed to lean on her elder brother sometimes and Charlie had grinned his way through her worries over whether or not she and Harry would last as a couple while she finished school and whether the family would cope with her being away at Hogwarts so soon after their loss.

He'd done it all. He'd pulled them all back together and he'd taken almost a year off his work and his pursuit of all things dragon-related to fix his family as best he knew how.

And every day he'd been there, Hermione had watched his restlessness grow. He might've been hurting along with the rest of them, but Hermione had known how Charlie Weasley needed to grieve the death of his younger brother and his oldest school friend. It wasn't by sipping tea and consoling his distraught mother or distracting his father with muggle gadgets. It wasn't by drinking too much with his brothers.

He'd needed to grip life by the teeth and roar at it like he was a dragon himself. Hermione had known long before he announced his departure that he would be returning to Romania and the dragons of the colony here. She'd known he'd never be able to give up their allure. And for a time that had been fine. She'd hugged him goodbye along with the rest of the family and she'd tried to forget the way he'd made her burn for him.

She'd tried dousing the ache between her legs by distracting herself with Ron. She'd tried to make herself as interested in Ron as she'd been before interacting with his elder brother. And she'd done everything in her power to make sure Ron never knew their break-up had been a result of the fact that she'd wanted Charlie far more than she'd ever wanted Ron himself.

Hermione had gone about her life until now. She'd finished her final year of school following the war. She'd gotten herself an internship with the Ministry in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures office. She'd worked her way through the ranks there until she'd landed herself a job in the Dragonolist department and she'd stuck it out until they'd finally told her that she was being given the chance to train with the beasts and learn about them in the colonies in Romania – the largest Dragon Sanctuary in all of wizarding history.

Indeed, she'd even waited until things with Ron were well and truly over – until Ron was engaged to another woman – before she'd even thought about allowing herself the chance to come to Romania.

What she hadn't done, was tell Charlie she was coming. Harry knew. Ginny knew. Even Ron knew she'd been given the chance to come to Romania. She'd told her family and friends that she'd been promoted and given a once in a lifetime opportunity to learn about magical creatures and her chosen field of study. They knew she was coming to Romania. They knew she would be living here for the next year. Ministry sponsored as part of her training, Hermione knew the DRCMC was expecting big things out of her and wanted to make sure she was fully prepared and properly experienced before they would think about promoting her again.

If she was being honest, Hermione knew her skills and her interests lay in the scientific research field, pertaining – in particular, to dragon breeding, dragon anatomy and a means for the dragon populations of the world to grow once more. There had been a rapid decrease in the number of dragons currently within the world and Hermione knew that her department was pinning their hopes on her analytical skills in order to come up with a reason for it and suggestions for ways to make sure the numbers improved.

But she hadn't told Charlie she was coming.

She hadn't wanted him to think she'd come because of him. In fact, she'd been entertaining notions of pretending she'd forgotten he worked in these colonies in this particular part of Romania. Of course, that idea had been dismissed as quickly as it had occurred to her. She'd been thinking instead that it might be more prudent to show up tomorrow morning at the sanctuary and 'surprise' Charlie whilst having the legitimate fact of her being there for work as a buffer to keep him from knowing the truth.

She couldn't tell him she'd been hot for him since she was seventeen. She couldn't just saunter over there, straddle him and demand he fuck her until the fire between her legs that he'd lit six years ago consumed them both. Maybe firewhiskey wasn't the best idea when it came to avoiding _that_ idea.

Hermione threw back the next shot, relishing the taste of the fiery amber liquid and the way it made her insides hotter than fire as it went down. She'd fallen in love with the alcohol when she'd discovered its singular ability to make the rest of her as hot as the place between her legs whenever she thought of Charlie.

"Another?" the bartender asked, watching her with intrigued eyes as she downed the liquor in one.

Hermione knew she shouldn't do it. She had to work in the morning. With dragons, no less.

"Yes, please," she sighed, her gaze straying once more to Charlie where he was drinking with his colleagues.

He looked relaxed and comfortable around them, but Hermione couldn't deny that there still looked to be that coiled hunger in his pose and in his eyes. She'd seen it before he returned to Romania. At the time, Hermione had assumed it was the look of a man used to living dangerously who craves that next rush of adrenaline. But he still had it. He'd spent almost a year at home trying to help pull his family back together and he still came home for the holidays when he could.

Yet he still had that hungry look about him as though there was something he was burning for that he didn't seem to be finding, even here among his friends, his colleagues and his dragons.

"Are you new around here, love?" the bartender asked, topping up her glass.

"Yes," Hermione nodded, transferring her gaze to the grizzled looked man pouring her drinks when she felt a pulse of heat rock through her core from watching Charlie for too long. "The British Ministry sent me to receive my Dragonologist practical training and to study the beasts up close. I'm a researcher trying to find the solution to the population decreases we've seen over the past five years."

"That right?" the bartender grinned. "You know them boys, then? They'll likely be your trainers and your mentors while you're here. Best of the Tamers in the whole bloody sanctuary."

"I know," Hermione smiled softly. "I'm actually a family friend of Charlie's."

"Oh, you know Charlie?" he asked. "What are you doing sitting here drinking alone then? Get over there and talk to him."

Hermione sighed.

"He doesn't know I'm here yet," Hermione admitted to the man, downing her drink and holding her glass out as she waited for another.

"One way to fix that, love," he grinned at her, topping her glass up to the brim. "Go over and say hello, or I'm cutting you off."

Hermione narrowed her eyes on the man in annoyance but she paid him the money she owed him. She'd need more liquid courage if she was going to head over there and tell Charlie she was in his neck of the woods. Hells, she was going to need to shower in ice-water if she wanted to have any hope of keeping her wits and not tripping over her tongue or begging him to take her to bed.

Merlin, she hadn't been laid in more than a year and it was driving her spare. She'd tried. Things with Ron had fallen apart almost four years ago now and Hermione had dated other boys since then. She'd tried to forget the way Charlie could look when he was yearning for the heat of dragon-flames shooting past him, almost burning him alive. Hermione had dated others and she'd tried to think about anyone other than Charlie bloody Weasley when she let them take her to bed.

She'd tried to get them to inspire the fire in her that he'd ignited but none of them had even come close to stoking the flames.

Sighing, Hermione sipped her drink a little more sparingly before glancing down at herself. She'd arrived that morning and Hermione hadn't had a chance to change since then. She'd been busy getting settled in and unpacking her things in the cabin she'd been given to live in for the length of her stay. She wore black denim jeans, dragon-hide boots and a blue snug fitting scoop-neck t-shirt. It was warm enough out that she'd left her travelling cloak in her cabin before she'd come in search of food and a drink at the local pub.

And now she was sitting by herself spying on the man she'd been in serious lust with for six years rather than going over and greeting him like she ought given that they were family in all but name or blood. Shaking her head at herself for being such an idiot, it occurred to her that were their positions reversed, she'd have been annoyed with him for sitting across the bar rather than coming over and saying hello. That, more than anything else, inspired her to stop being such a coward.

Stalking across the bar like a woman on a mission, Hermione approached the table where Charlie and his buddies were all drinking. Like her, they'd already finished their meals and fallen simply to having a few drinks after a long day. One of his friends bore a fresh bandage over the newest burn on his bicep he'd obviously earned that day.

"Mind if I join you?" the words tumbled out of her mouth in a sultry purr she hadn't known she was capable of.

Seven faces turned to look at her and Hermione felt a little better about herself when at least four of them looked like they approved of the idea that she join them. Two of the group were other girls, also Tamers by the looks of their scars and Hermione caught the way one of them frowned at her slightly.

"Hermione?" Charlie's voice asked over the din of the crowded bar.

Hermione met his gaze carefully, tilting her glass to her lips and taking a drink as she looked at him. Those wild brown eyes clashed with hers and set fire to her very soul. Hermione nearly melted into a puddle right there. He didn't act the way any of the other Weasleys would have upon seeing her. They'd have all jumped up, shuffled awkwardly with the intent of hugging her, looked nervous and then hugged her anyway.

Charlie didn't leave his seat.

He just fixed her one of those smouldering gazes he had so perfected and Hermione was sure that her knickers were soaked. Gods, no one had the right to look at her like that. He looked at her like she were a wild dragon and he was assessing how best to tame her. Like she were some magnificent beast he wanted to smooth his hands over. She'd have been flattered if she hadn't learned that it was just the look he constantly wore. An expression of yearning and hunger combined with a cocky arrogance one could only gain when they lived life on the edge every single day and still survived.

"Miss me?" Hermione asked when Charlie didn't say anything else, just stared at her, clearly surprised to find her suddenly in his midst. She suspected he was having a 'two worlds collide' type moment given that his life in Romania so infrequently clashed with his life in England.

"You know this one, Charlie?" one of Charlie's friends asked, looking her up and down speculatively and clearly a bit worried by Charlie's surprised expression. For a man who didn't surprise easily, Hermione wondered if it was a good or bad thing that the sight of her had thrown him for a loop.

"I'm best friends with his youngest brother," Hermione offered her hand to the speaker, noting his wicked gaze. Indeed, he had the same look as Charlie. Dangerous. Arrogant. Sexy as hell. But he had nothing on the red-haired man she wanted to ravish until the fire inside her burned out.

"Jason van der Meene," the man smirked at her wickedly.

"Hermione Granger," Hermione said in reply, noting as she spoke that one of the girls in the group eyed the scar across her forearm with distaste, clearly unsettled by the word 'Mudblood' where it had been slashed into her skin and scarred in wretched, raised purple lettering.

"Aw hell, you're the girl who helped Harry Potter end You-Know-Who's reign of terror, right?" Jason said, looking a little awed as she introduced herself. He shook her hand firmly and Hermione noticed that like Charlie, his hand bore calluses, blisters and a few scars from his work.

"Well…" Hermione blushed modestly at being addressed in such a manner. She'd almost forgotten that she was still technically famous for what she'd done during the war. The people she worked with and her friends at home didn't tend to think too much about the fame that came with what they'd done anymore, and she avoided the press constantly, so she'd forgotten what it could be like to meet someone for the first time and have them know of her past deeds.

"She is," Charlie nodded, speaking for her before he threw back the rest of the whiskey in his glass, draining it in three long gulps without taking his eyes off her.

"Hell, girl," Jason said. "You gotta tell me your stories. Oh, and since this ponce has forgotten his manners, these other gits are Greg, Sid, Harvey, Caroline and Amy."

He pointed to each person of the group in turn. Hermione noticed that it was Amy who glared at her scar and didn't look very thrilled by the sight of her joining them.

"It's wonderful to meet all of you," she said, smiling and trying to ignore Amy's frosty attitude as she shook hands with everyone and they all greeted her in turn.

"Well pull up a stool, love," Jason went on, before looking around, trying to locate an empty stool for her to sit one.

There weren't any. The bar was too packed and there was barely room to stand, let alone to sit down.

"Shit. Sid, be a gentleman, would you?" Jason nudged Sid – a blonde haired man who appeared to be missing an eyebrow and was currently the one bearing the bandage on his upper arm.

"Oh, don't," Hermione shook her head. "I'm happy to stand. Honestly, if I sit and drink much more, someone will have to carry me out of here and that would make a wretched first impression."

"You're Hermione Granger, what do you care about impressions?" Sid wanted to know, looking like the idea of her getting sloshed amused him immensely. Since he'd been drinking heavily all evening while Hermione had been watching them from across the bar, Hermione could only assume he was either a heavy drinker himself or he was trying to dull the pain of his most recent dragon-encounter related injuries.

"Yeah, screw first impression, let's get hammered! What brings you to Romania, Hermione?" Caroline asked and Hermione got the feeling that she at least seemed to like Hermione – or was trying to be nice, in any case. She smiled widely and raised her glass before downing the contents. Hermione noticed the rest of the group followed suit while waiting to hear Hermione's answer.

"Well, actually that's why I came over," Hermione admitted, slanting another glance at Charlie who was still watching her like she were something he was contemplating devouring. "I don't know if you guys would've been given the memo yet, but um… you're technically all my handlers as of tomorrow morning at seven o'clock."

"You're the researcher the British Ministry sent over?" Charlie asked, his eyes widening slightly at the idea. "You're studying Dragonology?"

Hermione nodded her head, her brow furrowing a little. She was sure she'd told Charlie she was interested in dragons. She had been certain they'd had more conversations about it than anything else they discussed while he'd been living at the Burrow six years ago. Had he paid so little attention that he didn't know she'd been studying magical creatures and working for the DRCMC for the past five years after graduating?

Hermione felt a small part of her shrivel up in rejection at the idea that she was clearly interested in a man who barely knew she was alive.

"Surprise," she murmured, noticing he looked more than a bit shocked.

"Right on," Jason said, clearly too inebriated already to notice the tension between Hermione and Charlie that was rapidly fizzing out of control. "So that means we're technically your bosses, right? Like, I get to give you orders and you have to follow them."

"Technically," Hermione nodded, taking another sip of her drink. "Unless you guys aren't the people who deal with trainees."

"Don't look at me," Greg held his hands up. "Admin doesn't trust me with newbs after what happened with Kendall Wilkes seven years ago."

"You let the poor girl climb into the cage of a Chinese Fireball that you knew was ornery and in heat, and you told her to try and take the beast's temperature. Without warning her that the bitch was in heat and without covering her arse. You're lucky you didn't get the bloody sack," Caroline scolded.

"Remind me not to take orders from you, Greg," Hermione said, alarmed by the story and not at all relishing the idea of being told what to do by someone who might get her killed.

"Don't worry, they warn you about me in the induction training tomorrow," Greg grinned back at her. "Who needs more drinks? Amy, come help me carry them. My shout. Hermione, you in?"

"Get her one," Jason piped up. "Hermione, as your superior, your first task is to skol that drink and have another one with us."

Hermione smiled at him in return, her gaze straying to Charlie again. She got the feeling that Amy didn't like her already, and that Greg was trying to get the woman away from Hermione before she could be stabbed with something sharp.

"I'm not supposed to take orders from you lot until tomorrow morning," Hermione informed him before drinking her drink anyway.

"What are you drinking?" Jason wanted to know.

"Fire-whiskey. Ray knows the one I like," Hermione waved her fingers towards the bartender – Ray – who had been pouring them for her all night.

"Already on a first name basis with the publican and not a shudder in sight whilst drinking straight fire-whiskey," Jason laughed. "I reckon you're trouble, Hermione Granger."

Hermione rolled her eyes and handed her empty glass to Greg where he was collecting them to take them back to the bar.

"With a capital T," Charlie mutter, "What are you doing here, Hermione? What about Ron?"

"Ron?" Hermione turned to him, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"Yeah, Ron. You know, my kid brother? The one my mother's been gushing to me for months now about him being engaged and how she's handling all the wedding preparation?" Charlie said. "You're moving to Romania to study for a year in the middle of your engagement?"

"My engagement?" Hermione asked blankly, blinking at him and wondering what he was talking about. "I'm not engaged. I've never been engaged."

"What?" Charlie frowned, "But you and Ron…"

Suddenly it all made sense and Hermione realised Charlie must pay even less attention to her comings and goings than she'd thought.

"Ron and I broke up four years ago, Charlie," Hermione told him, beginning to laugh out loud, "He's marrying a girl he met through his Auror training. Stacey Strasswick."

"Did I know Ron was even dating a Stacey?" Charlie asked blankly.

Hermione snorted.

"Did you not?" she asked, tilting her head to one side and wondering if he was already drunk if he was having such trouble recalling facts about his own family.

"I thought he was still dating you," Charlie admitted, his brow furrowing further when Hermione actually began to laugh.

"Me?" Hermione choked out. "Charlie, Ron and I haven't been a couple since I finished Hogwarts. He's since dated a string of other girls before settling on Stacey. They're engaged and set to be married at the end of the year."

"No one tells me anything," he declared. shaking his head, "Honestly, just because I live on a different continent doesn't mean I shouldn't be informed of everyone's comings and goings."

"Did you really not realise Ron and I were broken up all the times you've been home at Christmas and Ron's had other girls there as his dates?" Hermione asked, baffled.

"All those trollops were his girlfriends? I thought they were Ginny's Quidditch teammates or something," Charlie began to laugh. "And I suppose all those wankers I saw trailing after you were your flames?"

Hermione blushed at the mention of the fact that she'd always made sure, over the past five years, to bring a date with her to every Weasley event she knew that Charlie would be attending lest he see how hot she was for him.

"Dude, you've got to get your head out of the skies with the dragons," Jason told him, laughing at their conversation.

"Apparently," Charlie agreed. "But then what are you doing here? I though you told me you were an intern at the Ministry."

"I was," Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "And then they promoted me to secretary. Then assistant to the assistant. Then assistant researcher. And now I'm here to specialise in dragons as my field-of-study research task before I'll be qualified as a Dragonolist."

"And you didn't owl me about this? Why did I not know you're into dragons too?" Charlie asked, his eyes were fixed on her and Hermione felt like squirming when he looked at her that way.

"You were too busy telling me stories about your work here for me to get a word in edgeways on the subject?" Hermione suggested

"Why didn't Mum tell me you were coming? You move into my neck of the woods and no one even Floo Calls me?" he told her and Hermione felt her blood bubble stickily with need when he reached for her, tugging her towards himself until she was standing between his legs. He had one foot propped up on the windowsill where they'd all been drinking, and he shuffled her around until she could sit on the windowsill there.

When she turned around she realised there were a bunch of guys behind her who'd just come over and joined the table, jostling themselves in as well and he was only moving her out of their way.

Hermione hated herself a little for the thrill that raced through her despite those facts, simply because she was pressed so close to him, literally standing between his knees and well within his personal space

"She erm… didn't really know about it," Hermione admitted, holding his gaze.

"You didn't tell my parents you were up and moving to Romania for work?" Charlie asked, raising his eyebrows as though the idea shocked him immensely.

Hermione shook her head, "She's been a bit… ah… distracted lately."

"So distracted that the girl she essentially adopted when you were twelve can leave the country for a prolonged period without telling her?" Charlie wanted to know, his brow furrowing.

Hermione noticed idly that he'd hooked his thumb through the belt-loop on the back of her jeans, holding her in place as he stared into her face. He looked a bit worried that his mother didn't know she was in Romania. That she'd thought the woman too busy to even mention it to her that she was moving to Romania with Charlie for a year at the very least.

"Well, with Ginny pregnant and Ron announcing his engagement to Stacey, there wasn't exactly much thought space left over for her to focus on the fact that I'll be here for a year," Hermione admitted quietly, looking at her feet for a moment. "She's been so busy. I mean, Ginny's going to pop within the month and even though she already has three grandchildren, Molly's been running around like crazy, because, you know, it's a her little girl."

Hermione nibbled her bottom lip.

"And then Ron went and announced his engagement, but no one's actually had the heart to tell Ginny because Ginny _hates_ Stacey and they're worried she'll go into labour prematurely or simply grow homicidal to learn she's getting Stacey for a sister in law. I told your Dad I was coming over here for work, and the rest of them all know, of course, since I had to say goodbye and everything. But your Dad was a bit distracted by the new drill set Harry got him for his birthday and well, I didn't have the heart to tell Molly. She's so stressed as it is that I didn't want to worry her."

She didn't want to admit that Molly had been a bit less invested in her since she and Ron had called things quits. Oh, the woman still doted on her like they were actually mother and daughter, but the more boys Hermione had dated after Ron, the rockier things between her and Molly had become. When Hermione had gotten her tattoo and Molly had spotted it, the woman had pitched a fit at her, demanding to know what she was doing with her life and how she thought she'd find a decent man if she was disfiguring herself.

She didn't seem to have quite forgiven the idea that Hermione wouldn't be a Weasley by marriage when things with Ron had ended and though she and Ron had long since buried the hatchet, Molly still got funny about it sometimes. Hermione tended not to tell the woman when she had a new date unless she was bringing that date to the Burrow for a gathering. Having grandchildren kept Molly busy enough anyway and Hermione had been worried that telling her she was moving to Romania would stress Molly too much. She'd never liked the idea of Hermione in such a dangerous field of work.

"You don't think she'll worry when she tries to invite you around for Sunday lunch and finds your flat empty?" Charlie asked her, shaking his head a little.

"Everyone else knows," Hermione admitted, feeling bad. "And when she realises she didn't know, she'll assume I told her and that she'd been too busy and forgotten. I all but told her anyway… just, without the actual 'by the way, I'm moving to Romania to study dragons for a year' words coming out of my mouth. She, uh… doesn't approve of my chosen career."

Charlie threw his head back and began to laugh at her words. He knew better than anyone how his mother felt about dangerous careers and taking needless risks.

"She'd have never let you out of the house if she knew you were coming here," he chuckled.

"I know," Hermione smiled. "So I told her without telling her and she'll think it just slipped her mind. She'll be a bit upset with me, but she'll be so distracted with Ginny's labour that by the time she gets around to noticing I've left the country, it'll be too late for me to pull out of the program when she inevitably guilt-trips me into finding a less dangerous career path more suited to a young lady."

"She gave you that speech, eh?" Charlie smirked her.

"Ginny got the same one when she signed with the Harpies," Hermione nodded. "You know she doesn't like the idea of women having dangerous or powerful careers because they're harder to give up to raise children."

"You should have heard the way she used to scold Tonks about being an Auror," Charlie nodded. "Every time Tonks came round before I moved over here, the woman gave poor Tonks hell about her job. I reckon she was grateful when I moved away so she didn't have to hang out with me as much anymore."

Hermione laughed at the idea.

"Ginny blows raspberries at Molly every time she tries to talk Ginny out of going back to work once the baby comes," Hermione told him.

"I bet she does. Bloody right too, she's still got plenty of Quidditch potential left in her. Just because Harry went and knocked her up doesn't mean she should give it up," Charlie nodded.

"Harry's all for her going back to work. He loves getting free tickets to all the games. Pretty sure he's planning on quitting the Auror department when Ginny's ready to play again," Hermione told him.

"What's he going to do instead?" Charlie asked.

"He and George have been talking about the idea of becoming business partners. They're thinking about opening a second store, possibly even growing the business to an international level. Everyone loves the joke-shop. It's not like Harry actually needs to work for money, and he loves being a Dad more than anything else."

"His kid's not even born yet," Charlie rolled his eyes.

"No, but he's been stealing Teddy from Andromeda every chance he gets. Andie's actually just agreed to move in with them at Harry place. They've got that second cottage on the grounds and Harry's been begging Andie to move in there since he got the place so he can see Teddy all the time."

"Takes being a godfather seriously, doesn't he?" Charlie smirked, nodding at the idea. "I reckon Tonks and Remus would've liked that. Dora was always big on family gatherings. She loved coming to the Burrow with me until Mum started nagging her about her job. Andie being cut off from her own family and Ted having so few relatives himself, I know she'd have loved having a big family. She always used to tell me she'd have as many kids as Mum one day."

Hermione smiled sadly at the thought that they'd only managed to have one beautiful little boy before Tonks and Remus had both been taken too soon from this world. Charlie sighed a little, a wistful expression crossing his face too at the reminder.

"Harry loves Teddy to death. He takes days off so often to spend time with the kid that the only reason they haven't fired him is because he's Harry bloody Potter," Hermione chuckled. "He's going to be a great Dad to your nephew, you know?"

"She's having a boy?" Charlie grinned again.

"It's not confirmed yet, they chose to let it be a surprise, but we've all been taking bets. I've got ten sickles on them having a boy," Hermione grinned nodding.

Charlie passed her drink to her when Greg and Amy returned carrying them all and Hermione realised with a jolt that they were being terribly rude as they caught up on family news whilst in the presence of everyone else.

"So, since when do you drink fire-whiskey anyway, Hermione?" Charlie asked, his thumb still hooked through her belt loop, his hand resting intimately against her hip where she sat so close to him.

"Since Bill's wedding," Hermione admitted, blushing a little.

"Is that right?" he grinned wickedly. "Bloody hell, woman, I feel like I don't even know you. I'm kind of pissed you didn't tell me you were coming. When did you get here?"

"This morning," Hermione told him. "I've been unpacking all day and ventured out when I got hungry."

"You should've told me! I could've helped you settle in," he admonished her. "How long have you been here, anyway? I reckon you've had more than one of those."

He nodded to her glass of fire-whiskey as she sipped from it.

"Am I slurring?" Hermione asked.

"No," he shook his head. "But your cheeks are flushed pink."

"Maybe she's uncomfortable sitting on your lap, Weasley," Amy sneered quietly and Hermione glanced over at her.

Charlie raised one eyebrow at Hermione questioningly over the suggestion and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Takes more than limited bar-space to make me uncomfortable, Charlie," Hermione assured him. "You know that."

"I seem to recall you sharing a bed with Harry and Ron for the length of time you were on the run from the Ministry. I reckon if you can spoon with that pair of ponces, you can handle anything," Charlie winked at her

"The snoring was _so_ bad," Hermione immediately grinned. "The number of times I nearly smothered the pair of them is unbelievable."

"I know. I used to hear Ron when I was at home. I reckon they compete in their sleep to see who can snore loudest. My room's a floor away from his at the Burrow and I nearly hexed the pair of them. I had to put Silencing charms on my room every night to get any sleep."

"No wonder you moved in with Bill for a bit," Hermione laughed.

"He was worse. Honestly, I don't know how Fleur puts up with him. I had to move back here just to get a decent night's sleep," Charlie laughed.

"So tell us about yourself, Hermione?" Jason piped up, clearly growing tired of listening to them catch up with one another. "How long have you been interested in dragons."

"Since my first year at Hogwarts," Hermione replied immediately. "A friend, Hagrid, hatched a Norwedgian Ridgeback egg in his cabin on the grounds."

"Norberta?" Sid asked, swivelling to look at her suddenly.

"Yeah," Charlie nodded. "Hermione was one of the ones who helped smuggle Norberta to the roof so we could pick her up."

"You were one of the ones with Charlie who picked her up?" Hermione chuckled smiling at Sid.

"Hell yeah," Sid nodded. "Took us days to smuggle her past international security to bring her home. You smuggled that monster out of the school as a first year?"

"I didn't have much of a choice. Hagrid's a friend, and he'd have been in big trouble if he'd been caught with a baby dragon and no licence. Ron – Charlie's brother – suggested the sanctuary," Hermione grinned.

"How the hell did you get her through the school without alerting the teachers?" Caroline wanted to know.

"Well, that was tricky," Hermione admitted. "We weren't expecting she'd grow quiet so fast in the time it took to organise having you lot pick her up. Hagrid's hut nearly burned down at least twenty times a day and she grew so fast! At first we thought it would be fine. She was no bigger than a puppy when she hatched, but she was longer than a broom by the time you guys arrived. Fitting her under Harry's Invisibility Cloak was a nightmare. I don't know what charms are on that thing, but it's lucky they are or it'd have been charred to a crisp before we even left the hut."

"And you've been interested in dragons since then?" Greg asked

"I'm muggleborn and had just learned that not only do dragons exist, but that people work with them, tame them, train them, and breed them like… I don't know, race-horses. I'm honestly surprised that I didn't end up here before now," Hermione admitted, not mentioning her crush on Charlie or the fact that though she did indeed adore dragons, she might not be studying them abroad if Charlie weren't there.

"I'll bet," Caroline laughed. "You would've been at school when we brought over the four breeders for the Triwzard tournament too, right?"

"I thought you looked familiar," Hermione snapped her fingers and pointed at the woman. "You were one of the others handling the dragons when Ron and Ginny couldn't contain their excitement to see their big brother and we all snuck into the forest."

"Pretty sure they just wanted to see the dragons," Charlie rolled his eyes.

"Who doesn't always want to see dragons?" Hermione retorted. "But they were pretty stoked to see you too. Ginny went on for hours about your new tattoo and that scar."

She nodded to his left bicep where a nasty burn marred the flesh.

"That girl's always been too interested in danger for her own good," Charlie chuckled. "Ron would've crowed for hours about the dragons."

"He wouldn't shut up about it. You should've heard him, listing the breeds over and over again. He was still put out with Harry then too, you remember? So he was really worried about Harry having to face one of the beasts for the first task and agonising over how to tell him without forgiving him."

"Pair of gits," Charlie rolled his eyes.

"Which was your favourite?" Caroline wanted to know, drawing Hermione's attention again.

"Of the four for the tournament?" Hermione asked.

Caroline nodded.

"I'll give you three guesses," Hermione chuckled.

"The Horntail?" Jason guessed immediately. "Everyone loves the Horntails because they're so cranky."

Hermione shook her head.

"No, Harry faced the Horntail and to be honest, when she got loose and went after him, I kind of wished death on her for trying to eat my best friend. She was beautiful, of course, but she wasn't my favourite."

"The Fireball?" Sid asked. "Girls always like the Chinese Fireballs."

"Ah, now she was the right colour for my house affiliation at school. I loved how shiny and red her scales were," Hermione sighed. "But I was actually dating Viktor, the Durmstrang Champion who faced her in the first task at that point in time, so no. She was beautiful, but the Fireball wasn't my favourite."

Caroline eyed her speculatively, "Two guesses left… I want to say the Welsh Green because you're British, but I don't think I'd be correct. Your favourite was the Swedish Short-Snout."

Hermione grinned.

"What gave me away?" she asked.

"You're wearing blue," Caroline pointed out. "But you've got the look of a girl who doesn't pick dragons for their colour. You didn't pick the most exotic or most dangerous either. The Welsh Green – Artemis – is beautiful, but not as pretty as Delilah."

"Delilah?" Hermione asked.

"She's Charlie's girl," Caroline nodded. "Best breeder on the entire sanctuary, Delilah is. We reckon Weasley feeds her something special to make her come into heat so often."

Hermione turned towards Charlie, a smile on her lips. She'd known Charlie had been in charge of the Swedish Short-Snout during the tournament. It was one of the reasons she was so interested in him, actually. Hermione had watched the way the red-haired man before her had glowed like the sun when he looked upon the dragons in his care.

"Why Delilah?" he asked her, and Hermione could tell from the way he was watching her that he was interested in her answer. That he wanted to know what it was about the Swedish Short-Snout that had appealed to her over the aesthetics of the other three dragons.

Hermione felt her smile widen slowly. Her whole body felt like it was on fire as he fixed all of his intensity upon her, that smouldering fire of his personality stoked to hungry flames as they discussed his favourite topic in the world. She couldn't tell him she'd liked his dragon best because of him.

Closing her eyes, Hermione pictured the Swedish Short-Snout again in her mind.

"The eyes," she admitted quietly, opening her own eyes again slowly as she found the trait she'd best liked about the beast. "Most reptiles have cold eyes, but hers are like jewels. Even when she was so angry and trying to protect her nest, they glowed like sapphires. I could practically see the fire dancing in her eyes even before she opened her mouth and let out that blue stream of flame. It was like looking into the bluest sky or the deepest ocean and… seeing so much fire and so much life sparkling back. Like when you look at that blue right at the heart of a flame… they were just… mesmerizing."

As she lifted her gaze once more, glancing around the group at their sudden silence, Hermione found them all staring at her with knowing smiles on their faces.

"Hell, girl," Caroline chuckled. "You'll fit right in around these parts when you sweet-talk like that."

"To Hermione," Jason toasted, lifting his glass. "The only girl I've ever heard who can profess love for a dragon's gaze with as much fervour as Charlie Weasley."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, jostling slightly as Charlie shifted a bit to reach forward and toast with his friends.

"To Hermione," he agreed, his voice low and husky in her ears and making her thighs clench together subconsciously with desire.

She turned her gaze to him carefully and Hermione was sure that her yearning for him must be written all over her face. He looked at her like he'd just found something precious and pure. Something rare. Charlie looked at her right then as though she was some previously undiscovered breed of dragon he'd just run across and he couldn't wait to learn everything about her. He looked like he wanted to run his hands over her body, learning her dimensions, feeling her heat, stirring up the fire in her blood and in her heart.

He looked at her like he wanted to taste her fire. And Hermione was only too willing to let him.


	2. Desire

"Which cabin's yours, H'mione?" Charlie Weasley slurred at her several hours later when they'd all been kicked out of the pub for the night. It was nearing two in the morning and Hermione wasn't the only one more than a little bit tipsy.

"I don't remember," Hermione giggled, feeling very silly as she looked around trying to recognise her surroundings and figure out where she'd unpacked all her things. The cabins all looked identical to her. Made of stone – to protect against being destroyed every time a dragon got loose, she'd been told, they all housed one or two people to a cabin. Hermione had opted for one of the ones that she wouldn't have to share with anyone else. She'd outgrown the urge for roommates after being back at Hogwarts for her NEWT year and living in a tent with Ron and Harry the year before.

She liked to have her own space and she didn't like having to deal with the comings and goings of someone else cluttering up her space, cramping her style or complaining about her odd hours. She remembered dimly that she had tried to count the cabins between her place and the pub.

The entire village within the sanctuary was made up of similar cabins, a research centre, the dragon enclosures, a few shops, a post office and a grocery store. Hermione had actually been surprised by that. She'd expected researchers, keepers, dragon tamers, a few Ministry officials and the dragons but she hadn't been prepare for an entire village of people. All types seemed to loiter in the area. Traders who sold different dragon parts – raw materials like dragon's blood, dragon talons, scales, hide, snot, dung and eggs. Almost every part of a dragon could be used for other purposes within the wizarding world and as such, people pedalled them. Vendors who bought some of those raw materials and turned them into other things could also be found.

Stores selling dragon hide clothing, boots, gloves and vests; Apothecaries selling any potion that contained dragon bits. Even other vendors selling things that communities just generally needed. There was a quill shop and a place to buy books. There was a grocery store, a sweet shop, an ice-cream parlour and even a joke-shop – though it didn't look to be very popular. Hermione would have to remember to write to George and tell him there was an opening for a Wheezers store here in Dragonsmeade – as the village had so aptly been named.

One of the biggest buildings, however, was the hospital. Hermione could see it shining in the distant, lit up even now as people were treated for different things. Burns. Maulings. Bites and scratches from the dragons themselves. Spell damage. Common illnesses, aches and pains. Hermione knew that Dragonsmeade hosted the largest researched centre in the world for Dragon Pox studies as well as any number of labs dedicated to the actual study of the dragons themselves.

"You don't… well, shit," Charlie swore at the idea that she didn't remember where she lived, looking around blearily as well and trying to see past the end of his nose - something she doubted he could currently do. After their toast to her many hours earlier, the Tamers had taken to her well enough, though Amy still seemed frosty. They'd been drinking late into the night and Hermione had ended up in a round of shouts with them all, buying and downing drinks as fast as they could consume them.

She'd been 'inducted', as Jason had called it, and that meant she had to learn to drink as hard as she would learn to work. Caroline had informed her they all tended to drink most nights, especially if one of them was injured in the line of duty or something was off about the day. The only time drinking was out, she'd been told by a slurring Sid, was when they were on a hunt for dragons in the field that needed to be relocated to the sanctuary. Being hung-over and too slow off the mark could see a Dragon Tamer or her colleagues killed and as such, drinking was prohibited when they were hunting.

Charlie had rolled his eyes and told her they still tended to have a few, just not as many as to get plastered.

"I think it was five houses that way and then seven that way," Hermione offered, pointing in the vague direction of the dragon enclosures in the distance that made up the dragon hospital. She hadn't been given a tour yet, but she had learned that most of the dragons in the sanctuary were kept further afield in large, natural-habitat type enclosures. Only those that needed monitoring or medical attention were kept on hand at the hospital.

"Shit," Charlie cursed again, "Mine's closer. Come on."

Hermione laughed as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, his free hand grabbing her arm and pulling it around his waist. They stumbled as they walked together, Charlie more inebriated than Hermione ever remembered seeing him before.

"Wait, I think it's the other way," Hermione said, still trying to pinpoint where her own house might be and cursing to herself for being such an idiot and getting so drunk on her very first day.

This was not the way to make a good first impression.

"Who cares about impression?" Charlie scoffed, making Hermione realise she must be talking out loud, "You're H'mione Granger. You'll knock their socks off within the week."

"I don't want to know their socks off," Hermione replied, swaying and laughing when Charlie tripped over his own boots and nearly sent them both sprawling toward the ground, "I want to make sure I don't get kicked out before I find out why the dragons aren't breeding properly anymore."

He snorted and glanced sideways at her.

"That's why you're here?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Well, that and one other reason," Hermione retorted.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, a wicked smirk crawling across his face, "What's that?"

"Got to do my field-work to get myself qualified," Hermione replied before she could blurt out that she'd come because she wanted him to strip her naked and shag her until the place between her legs stopped tingling.

Charlie snorted again, swaying as he led her down a street with a broken street light and towards a cabin at the end of the row. The porch light was on, but Hermione didn't recognise it.

"This isn't my house," she protested.

"It's mine, idiot," he chuckled, "No way either of us is any shape to stumble around in the dark trying to find yours now. We'll Floo call your roommate inside."

He led her up the stairs and to the door, touching what she assumed to be a blood-ward on the door to gain entry.

"I don't have a roommate," Hermione told him as he tugged her through the door and into his cabin along with her.

"Well, shit," Charlie cursed again, releasing her to lean against the wall while he tried to pull his boots off his feet. Hermione couldn't help laughing when he lost his balance and fell on the floor.

In the morning, she was sure it would occur to her what idiots they were and how drunk they really must be that it occurred to them to Floo call a third party, but not to Floo from Charlie's cabin to hers. But right then, watching Charlie hit the floor with a groan and his right boot in his hand, it was the farthest thing from Hermione's mind. Leaning against the wall herself, Hermione jerked her own shoes off her feet, almost losing her balance in the process.

"Do you need help?" Hermione asked him when Charlie got his other boot off and sat on the floor for a minute simply watching her as she took her shoes off and stood them neatly next to his own messy pair.

"I think so," he admitted, holding both hands up to her.

Hermione took them, leaning back to keep her balance while she hauled on his arms and jerked him onto his feet.

"You're stronger than you look," Charlie told her, stumbling into her slightly when Hermione pulled too hard. She hadn't been expecting him to help very much as she pulled him to his feet and so had surprised both of them when she pulled so hard while he tried to bounce to his feet without pulling her over.

She found herself pressed back against the wall in the hallway leading to the kitchen, realising his cabin was laid out identically to hers. Charlie dropped her hands to catch himself against the wall, pressing his palms to the cool stones either side of her face.

"Oops," Hermione chuckled, finding humour in the moment even though she was currently closer to Charlie than she'd been in years.

All evening he'd kept her close to him. Indeed she'd spent most of the evening seated on the windowsill with one of his legs pressed against the window behind her back and the other knee brushing her legs while she sat, or her hips when she stood. For almost the entire evening he'd keep his fingers twisted through her belt-loops. She didn't know if he did it out of a need to touch her or an urge to warn away any of the other Dragon Tamers or the other people of Dragonsmeade that she'd met this evening, but Hermione couldn't say she minded.

"You alright?" he asked, grinning a little as she leaned against the wall.

"Yes," Hermione nodded her head, smiling in return, "Though I'm sure that in the morning, I won't think so."

"You still know how to make hangover potion, right?" he asked, "I seem to recall you making particularly potent Hangover cures that kept Mum from screaming at all of us for getting drink every other night with Georgie."

"I didn't bring any with me," Hermione admitted, "And I think trying to brew in this condition might be unsafe."

"I've got enough for tomorrow," he chuckled, "But if you're going to live here, you're going to need to handle your liquor or you're going to have to start brewing both of us those hangover potions you're so good at."

"I could be persuaded to brew them," Hermione grinned.

"Persuaded?" he smirked at her and Hermione wondered how she even still had knickers. If they weren't so damp with her neediness, she was certain they'd have gone up in flames from the heat of the throbbing, fiery place between her legs that begged to have Charlie touch her.

She didn't know what to say to his question without hitting on him. Honestly, her ego had taken enough blows tonight to learn he'd had no idea she wasn't still dating Ron, let alone interested in dragons like him. She wasn't about to put herself out there to be shot down. So instead, Hermione just smiled at him sweetly and did her very best to keep from arching into him where he leaned so close to her that she could probably count his eyelashes if the world wasn't spinning.

He grinned wickedly in return, tilting his head to one side ever so slightly.

"Did I mention that it's good to see you, Hermione?" he asked her, still peering at her and Hermione blinked.

"I don't think so. You were too busy trying to figure out if I'd run out on your brother," Hermione shook her head.

"Well," he shrugged, "Can you blame me? I don't exactly listen to every detail when Mum Floo calls me and goes on and on with updates of what everyone at home is doing. When she said Ron was engaged, I just figured he'd finally got his shit together and asked you to marry him. Been expecting it since you lot were still in school."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Never would have worked out," she shook her head, "Didn't work out. It was actually really awkward, felt kind of like I imagine snogging one's brother might feel."

Charlie snorted at her assessment.

"You still dated him a while."

"It was sort of… expected," Hermione admitted quietly, reflecting on the brief few months she and Ron had dated. She'd never slept with him, actually. She'd barely even snogged him. It had felt too strange.

"I'd disagree, but I expected you'd still marry him even though you broke up years ago," Charlie shrugged, "You want something to eat? I'm starving."

He pushed away from the wall, the intimacy of being so close and so drunk suddenly broken by the mention of the fact that she'd dated his brother. Hermione kicked herself for bringing Ron up at all.

"You're going to cook something?" she asked, pretending he hadn't just pressed her into the wall.

"Won't be so hungover if we eat something," he said over his shoulder, "Should probably shower too. I haven't yet today."

"Neither have I," Hermione sighed, "I can't believe I forgot where I live. I'm making a terrible debut into the world of living abroad."

"Don't worry about it," he laughed, "Grab a shower if you want, towels are in the cupboard in the bathroom. Ignore the mess."

"I don't have anything to put back on," Hermione pointed out.

"Oh. Right," he frowned for a second, ceasing his actions of pulling ingredients out of the fridge, "Hang on a minute."

He swayed down the hallway, and Hermione giggled as she heard him curse when he tripped over something on his way into his bedroom. She crept over to the bench where he'd been pulling out ingredients, trying to figure out what he planned to make. She smiled when she recognised the staples for Molly's usual midnight snack option. Grilled cheese sandwiches. While Charlie was distracted, Hermione continued making them.

She might have never been to his place before but if he was anything like his siblings and his mother… ah, Hermione grinned when she opened the corner cupboard and found his frypan before setting it on the stove and firing it up. She dropped butter into the pan, smearing the excess onto the toast before stacking thick layers of cheese over it and dropping the next layer of bread on top. She was giggling to herself as she made double-stacked grilled cheese, something she and Harry had discovered to be the tastiest things since grilled cheese. Another layer of cheese went on top of the middle slice of bread, followed by a third piece of bread.

She repeated the processes with another sandwich.

"Here you go, you can…." Charlie appeared back in the kitchen clutching a wad of clothing that he was offering her, stopping mid-sentence when he found her cooking them both grilled cheese sandwiches.

She'd also filled his kettle and put it over the heat to boil, intending to make them both cups of tea, knowing she was never as hungover if she had a cup of tea before going to sleep when she'd been drinking.

"You found everything?" he asked, coming closer as though he had forgotten she'd practically spent every summer since she'd been twelve living in his family home.

"You don't exactly deviate from the way Molly keeps her kitchen, Charlie," Hermione chuckled, "It wasn't hard."

"What are these?" he asked, peering over her shoulder to look at the double-decked grilled cheese sandwiches she was making.

"Double stacked," Hermione grinned at him, turning her head and almost bumping noses with him when she found him inside her personal space.

"Why have I never thought of that before now?" he asked, looking slightly awed.

"Harry's a genius when it comes to food," Hermione shrugged her shoulders, "He put me onto them a few years back. But twice the cheese means it takes longer to melt. You've got time to shower if you want."

"You go, I'll do this," he grinned, "This is for you."

He handed her one of his jumpers to wear and Hermione took it without looking.

"Are you okay here?" she asked, "You're not going to stumble and burn yourself on the stove? You're pretty drunk."

Charlie scoffed at her, "At least I can remember where I live, Hermione. Go and get clean or you're not sleeping in my bed."

"You'd make me sleep on the floor if I didn't bathe?" she demanded, laughing.

"Too right, I would," he grinned, "So get. Burn myself on the stove, indeed. I'm a professional bloody Dragon Tamer, I think I can handle one little stove that's bolted to the floor."

He shook his head, pointing her out of the kitchen and Hermione laughed but did as she was told. She was much too drunk to protest the matter further before she sauntered off down the hallway and into the bathroom. She stripped out of her clothes quickly, amused that he'd told her to ignore the mess. Clearly he'd not spent much time living with Ron or Harry if he thought he was messy.

Folding her things quickly, Hermione dug a bath-towel out of the cupboard and set it on the bench along with Charlie's shirt before she turned on the taps and climbed under the hot spray of the shower. She almost groaned at how good it felt as she bathed quickly. She didn't worry about washing her hair. It would take too long for it to dry and she'd done it yesterday before moving. Making use of Charlie's soap – noticing with amusement that it was the same brand the rest of his family used as well, Hermione washed herself quickly, scrubbed clean and got back out of the shower.

She towelled off, trying to keep her balance while she dried her feet.

She wrinkled her nose at the idea of putting her used underwear back on, but with nothing else, Hermione settled for a strong cleaning charm on the clothing before pulling them back on again. She pulled Charlie's shirt on over the top and Hermione glanced in the mirror when she was done, amused when she discovered he'd given her one of his old Quidditch jerseys. It had a faded number seven on the sleeves and the back; the Hogwarts emblem and Gryffindor team name on the front and the name C. Weasley stamped across the back.

The idea titillated her in ways it had no right to and Hermione grinned at her own reflection. She eyed her jeans for a minute, not intending to sleep in them and so not wanting to put them back on. Rather than bothering, Hermione picked up the pile of her own clothing and carried it with her as she left the bathroom.

"That was fast," Charlie commented from the kitchen when Hermione returned there, setting her things in a pile on the kitchen bench.

"I didn't need to wash my hair or I'd be up all night trying to get it dry," Hermione replied, "You go grab a shower, I'll finish these."

"They're done," he shook his head, turning towards her with both sandwiches plated up.

He paused when he spotted her leaning barefoot against the kitchen bench wearing only his jersey. It fell to mid-thigh on her, but Hermione imagined the sight was more of her than he was used to seeing. She hated herself a little when she felt another throb of heat between her legs at the way he trailed his gaze over her from head to foot.

"Gryffindor colours did always suit you," he chuckled, handing her a plate and waving his hand towards the cups on the bench where he'd clearly made her a cup of tea.

"Probably a good thing," Hermione replied, "Else I'd have spent an awkward seven years wearing unbecoming colours."

He nodded around the big bite he'd taken of his sandwich and Hermione watched him as he watched her while she ate her own sandwich as well. She could feel the tension between the two of them increasing slowly and Hermione sighed out a heavy breath when she took a long drink from her cup of tea.

"You should get to bed," he told her when they'd finished eating while Hermione set the plates and cups on the sink, "Seven AM is going to come a lot sooner than you think with the hangover we've both got coming."

Hermione nodded her head.

"Come on," he reached for her, tugging her down the hall by the hand and nodding her towards the bedroom. Hermione bit her lip as she turned in the doorway to glance up at him, "I'll be in there in a bit. Don't hog the covers, alright?"

"No promises," Hermione told him, grinning.

He laughed as he turned away and Hermione was sure she might've whimpered out loud when he yanked his shirt off over his head on his way into the bathroom, revealing the tattooed, muscled expanse of his back to her hungry gaze. Like the rest of his body that she'd ever seen, he was so freckled that he looked tan because of the amount of time he spent outdoors. Hermione wanted to run her fingers over every inch of that flesh and it took more self-control than she'd realised she possessed to be able to turn away as he closed the bathroom door.

She didn't bother turning the light on as she crossed the room to his bed. He'd pushed it into the corner of the room and Hermione suspected he didn't entertain a lot of overnight guests. That idea pleased her immensely. She'd been getting bad vibes all evening from Amy, making her think the woman fancied herself Charlie's lover. Given Charlie's lack of reaction to Amy's bad mood and his continued insistence that Hermione be so close to him, not to mention his allowing her to sleepover in his bed, she doubted the woman was his girlfriend.

Maybe she just fancied herself his girlfriend. Hermione snorted to herself as she peeled back the covers and climbed between the sheets of Charlie's bed. If the woman thought she was going to end up with Charlie Weasley one day, she was sorely mistaken. If anyone was taking the title of Mrs Charles Weasley, it was going to be Hermione Jean Granger, thank you very much.

Snuggling down under the covers, Hermione slid to the far side of the bed closest to the wall and stretched out on her back. She tried to convince the walls to stop spinning and she found herself wishing she hadn't drunk quite so much that evening. Hermione closed her eyes, listening to the sounds all around her. In the distance she could hear the occasional sound of a dragon roaring into the night. The sound of people stumbling their way home within the village – having also been kicked out of the pub at closing time – could also be heard. People laughing and calling to one another.

Closer still, Hermione could hear the sound of the water running through the pipes as Charlie bathed and a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth when she heard him randomly begin to sing the chorus of one of the songs that had been playing at the pub. She chuckled to herself at the muffled sound, especially when she heard him sing the wrong lines, mixing them up and singing them out of order.

He was still singing in a slurred mumble when the door to the bathroom opened once more and Hermione heard more than saw that he waved his wand to lock the front door and turn out the lights.

She grinned as she began singing the words along with him, giving him a sound to follow over to the bed.

"Bloody good song, that one," he muttered to her when they'd both sung the chorus obnoxiously loudly.

"You won't think so when you wake up tomorrow with it still in your head," Hermione told him.

She opened her eyes to watch him fuss around in the dark and by the dim light of the moon outside, Hermione could see Charlie standing over by a chest of drawers in just a towel. He squiggled his hips slightly as though he were dancing to the song still playing in his head and Hermione squinted in the dark, trying to see when he dropped the towel and grabbed some fresh boxers. Hermione couldn't tell what colour they were in the dark as he jerked them up his legs.

She could, however, see it when he turned towards her with his hands in one of the drawers still, looking as though he were debating whether or not he ought to don more clothing to sleep next to her.

"Are you going to wander around singing all night, or are you coming to bed?" Hermione asked him.

"Do you want me to sleep on the couch, Hermione?" he asked, clearly sobering up a bit and regaining some of the gentlemanly sensibilities Molly and Arthur had undoubtedly drummed into him.

"Don't be ridiculous," she rolled her eyes, snorting with amusement at the very idea and secretly wanting to feel him crawl into bed beside her.

"You're not going to get weird on me in the morning?" he asked, clearly discarding thoughts of more clothing as he crossed the room towards the bed wearing only his boxers.

"Only if you sleep on the couch and make things awkward," Hermione told him, "Just get into bed, would you? I'm cold."

Charlie laughed.

"You're probably the only straight witch I know who can sound so impatient whilst inviting a man to bed with her, entirely for non-sexual purposes," he informed her as he peeled back the covers and crawled in next to her.

"Do you get invited to bed by lots of bent girls for non-sexual purposes, Charlie?" Hermione asked innocently, smirking to herself.

"I'm not above wrestling you for that tone, Granger," he warned at her flirtatious and rather cheeky tone.

"You couldn't even if you tried," Hermione challenged immediately, "You couldn't even pull your boots off without falling over."

"Right, that's it," he growled playfully and Hermione immediately squirmed when he reached for her under the covers, digging his fingers into her sides as he began to tickle her.

She couldn't hold back the laughter that bubbled up from within her as she tried to escape his tickling fingers, squirming across the bed until she hit the wall. Charlie was laughing as well, chasing her across the small space. Her only option was to fight back when she found herself trapped and Hermione gleefully dug her fingers into his ribs, the skin bare beneath her touch as she did so.

"Oi! That's not how this works. You're cheeky, you get tickled," Charlie laughed, "You don't get to fight back while you're punished."

"What are you going to do about it, Weasley?" Hermione challenged, kicking one leg over him and straddling him. Hermione pinned him to the bed, still tickling him mercilessly.

"You're going to regret that, love," he retorted, squirming beneath her hands before he bucked his hips, trying to dislodge her from her perch atop him.

"I don't think I will," Hermione laughed, writhing when he tickled her some more.

She squeaked when she suddenly felt both of his hands slide up the length of her thighs before he gripped her tight and flipped them both with ease. He caught her hands in his tight grip and jerked her arms up over her head, pinning them to the pillow. The length of his body rested intimately in the cradle her hips created, her knees bent up either side of his lean, muscled frame.

"I wrestle ten tonne dragons all day, love," he reminded her, "Did you think one little hundred pound witch would be a challenge for me?"

Hermione snorted at his cocky tone, suddenly finding her whole body scorching with desire she could feel every sinuous inch him pressed against her. Something hot and hard inside his boxers prodded intimately against the scorching junction of her thighs and Hermione bit her lip on a whimper that threatened to escape her.

"And when you get those dragons pinned, what do you do to them Charlie?" Hermione asked, aware of her suddenly breathless tone and suspecting he noticed it too.

"Well now, that depends on what it is they need from me," he replied, his own voice turning husky, "Some of them have been injured in a fight and need to be patched up. Some of them need a good scrub down to make them feel better after eating something they shouldn't."

Hermione could feel her breath coming in little gasps as he spoke. He lowered his face towards her neck as he listed the types of things his job entailed in that husky voice. His long red hair was loose and damp, tickling her skin and making her quiver. He trailed the tip of his nose up the length of her neck, and Hermione didn't even think about it as she stretched it automatically in response to give him better access.

"Some of them need their claws cut or a hang-nail removed," he went on, "Some might have some scale-rot I've got to scrub at with a metal brush," he trailed his lower lip against her jaw seductively, making Hermione tremble.

"Some of the females need a belly rub when they get pregnant and they're uncomfortable," he kept talking and Hermione was alarmed that the use of the word 'pregnant' whilst in bed with him didn't douse the heat racing through her, "Some of the males need a good fight and to snap and snarl when they get beaten out for the right to mate. My job is to figure out what they need and give it to them."

Hermione shivered when he stopped, his mouth by her ear, his lips brushing ever so faintly against the sensitive shell.

"What do you need, Hermione?" he whispered hotly into her ear, searing her with his heat.

A lusty whimper left her throat without her permission and, unbidden, her body arched beneath Charlie's. Her breasts tingled when she pressed them to his chest and her breath hitched as she rubbed herself needily against his crotch. He nipped her earlobe in response to the caress and Hermione would swear she must be dreaming.

Hermione arched into him again, feeling the way he ground his erection against the needy junction of her thighs through the thin fabric of their underwear. Somewhere away in the distance there was another roar from a dragon. Charlie's lips trailed a burning line of kisses along the edge of her jaw towards her mouth and Hermione moaned softly at the exquisite caress.

Another roar from a dragon, this time much louder than before, had him stilling.

"Do you hear that?" he asked, pulling back from her slightly.

"The dragon?" Hermione asked, trying to think clearly through the haze of lust and fire-whiskey.

"I'm not imagining it," he said and by the glow of the moon through the window, Hermione watched the way Charlie's brow furrowed.

She was just opening her mouth to ask if it was important right then that a dragon was roaring somewhere, but before she could, a rapid and alarmingly-loud pounding came from Charlie's front door.

"Shit," Charlie groaned, burying his face against her neck once more and latching onto the flesh. Hermione moaned softly as he suckled at the flesh, drawing blood to the surface and giving her a love-bite. The pounding at the door continued.

"You need to get that, don't you?" Hermione sighed when he pulled back from her and looked at her guiltily.

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Do you want me to get it?" Hermione asked, bucking her lips slightly against the raging erection she could feel pressed to her throbbing, aching core.

"That would nice," Charlie chuckled, "But no. It'll be one of the Handlers. Sounds like Hercules is getting worse. You stay here. Get some rest. You've got to be up in four hours to start your first day of Tamer training."

He climbed off her reluctantly and Hermione sighed in frustration as she watched him dig some jeans and a shirt from his chest of drawers. He pulled them on quickly.

"Do you need my help?" Hermione asked as she watched him pull his shirt on over his head.

"With Herc?" he asked, "Nah, it's alright, Hermione. You sleep. You're going to need it. It'll be bad enough that I'm fuck-eyed right now. Don't need you there while you're tipsy too."

Hermione sighed again, flopping back against the pillows when he glanced at her for a moment, looking rather torn between his duty to his job and his yearning to return to bed, hopefully to ravish her. He didn't say anything else before striding out of the room, pulling the bedroom door mostly closed behind him.

"What Gerry?" his voice came a few minute later when he snatched the front door of his.

"We need you, boss," a panicked male voice replied, "It's Herc, he's getting worse. Crashing into the bars of the enclosure. He's already hurt himself."

"Has anyone tried sedating him?" Charlie asked, the slur of his drunkeness disappearing with the boost of adrenaline that came from needing to call on his expertise.

"Marla tried to get close enough to give him something and he almost tore her arm off," Gerry said, clearly still panicked, "They've rushed her to the Clinic. She'll be out of the game for a month at least, they reckon. Ripped her shoulder apart when he grabbed her in his jaws and flung her around the cage. Henry and Samson are in the hospital too after they had to dive in and distract Hercules while the rest of us got Marla outta there."

"Fuck!" Charlie cursed, "Let's go."

Hermione heard the sound of him pulling his boots on followed by the door being pulled shut. Heavy footsteps across the porch ended abruptly when they both stepped off the edge and raced away into the night to deal with the crisis on hand. She was torn between the urge to go after them and offer her assistance however she could, and between wanting to call Charlie back and demand he have his wicked way with her.

Her whole body burned with the urge to be touched, with the need for release. And by the sounds of things, Charlie wasn't going to be coming back any time soon to help her out with that notion. Huffing in annoyance, Hermione figured she would just have to do it herself.


	3. Douse

The sound of a frustrated and rather pained groan accompanied a loud and insistent beeping and buzzing of an alarm. Hermione Granger blinked her eyes open painfully, her head beginning to ache immediately at the assault of dawn light pouring through the window. She realised dimly that the alarm was buzzing loudly, making her headache worse and alerting her to the fact that less than four hours sleep combined with the worst hangover she'd had in a while we're going to make for a wretched day.

"Urgh," she groaned, attempting to twist towards the general direction where her own alarm clock usually lived, trying to cease the wretched sound to protect her aching head from its shrill squealing.

Her mouth felt dry and fuzzy, as though someone had been shoving cotton wool into her mouth all night long or some furry woodland creature had crawled inside while she slept and had the indecency to die there. Her head ached and throbbed dully behind her eyes and she had to squint, trying to make sense of her surroundings when her attempts to swing her arm proved fruitless. She blinked in confusion when she opened her eyes to the sight of soft red chest hair and a brightly coloured tattoo.

Hermione groaned a second time, trying to move her body and finding it useless. She seemed to be intimately entwined with someone and all four of her limbs had been immobilised. She laid on her side, burrowed into someone's chest with her forehead pressed against someone's neck. The tip of her nose rested intimately against a man's clavicle. One of her arms was stretched across the mattress where they lay, slotted into the small gap created by the man having his own arm curled beneath her neck and around her back, with a hand tangled in her hair.

Her other arm was curled over Charlie's ribs and around his back. Indeed, she had her fingers tangled in his soft red hair. Her legs were similarly trapped. He'd hooked his outer knee over her hip and pulled her outer thigh between both of his, his calf-muscle pressed against the bare length of the back of her thigh and his foot tucked under her calf. His free arm was wrapped around her waist, pressing her to his chest, their fronts intimately pressed together.

"It's the back-up alarm," Charlie grumbled, his voice husky with sleep when Hermione tried moving her hand, her fingers getting stuck in his red hair, as she attempted to stop the noise.

"Make it stop," she groaned, realising that the beeping and the buzzing were the results of two different alarms going off. One, she spotted on Charlie's nightstand when he lifted his head slightly. The other was somewhere out of sight

"Hermione?" he asked, peering down at her as though he wasn't sure just whom it was that he was in bed with.

Hermione tilted her head to squint at him in return. His eyes were bloodshot and narrowed as he squinted against the daylight pouring in through the open curtains. He looked like hell and Hermione imagined she looked worse.

"What time is it?" she groaned at him, trying to burrow her face back into his neck to hide from the sunlight, her mind not yet firing on all cylinders.

"If the back-up alarm is going off it means it's probably quarter to seven," he rumbled, his voice a deep baritone.

"What?" Hermione yelped, her eyes flying open again as she began to kick.

"It's been going off for a few minutes though, so it's probably closer to ten to, by now," he went on.

"No! No, no, no," she whimpered, beginning to writhe in his hold as she became fully aware of how entangled they both were at the moment, "I'm going to be so late. I've never been late on the first day! Shit! No, no, no! FUCK!"

Hermione shouted the final word in frustration as she tried to get loose of Charlie's hold in her panic. Charlie snorted in amusement.

"I didn't know you knew how to curse," he laughed before groaning when Hermione found the only way to get free of him was to roll him to his back, straddle his hips again, pry her arm from beneath him and then crawl right back off him again.

And she'd intended to do it in that order, but the second she straddled him, Charlie growled like a dragon himself, gripping her hips tight and lifting her right back off of him.

"Shit," he cursed, his eyes flashing with annoyance and pain. It was then that she noticed he had a bright white bandage wrapped around his left thigh, something she hadn't noticed until she moved the sheets out of the way as she attempted to clamber off him. He had another bandage around his left shoulder too.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, holding herself off him, noting that his grip was still bruisingly tight on her hips. If she weren't so hungover and in such a rush to get to work, she'd have been turned on as hell by the feel of his hands gripping her so tightly.

"I'm alright," he nodded, releasing her slowly as Hermione continued trying to clamber off him, "Herc got a bit stroppy with me, is all."

Hermione nodded her head, knowing that one of the biggest risks that came with working with dragons was that they were enormous, temperamental beasts who could and would turn on their keepers in a heartbeat if they were in a bad mood.

"How bad?" Hermione asked, climbing off Charlie and clutching at her head even as she found the stop button on the alarm clock by the bed.

She blanched before he'd even answered when she saw he'd been right about the time. She had to be at work in seven minutes.

"It's nothing," Charlie told her, watching her hurry over to the back-up alarm clock on his desk across the room and turning it off as well, "Just caught me with his claws."

"Do you know where my clothes are?" Hermione asked, turning in circles, still clutching her head and trying to remember what she'd done with them.

"They're in the kitchen," he chuckled, also clutching his own head, "Oi!"

Hermione spun back to him, already on her way to the door.

"Drink this before you go, you'll feel better," he tossed her a corked phial of hangover potion.

Hermione caught it instinctively and drank it, watching Charlie do the same. She shuddered at the wretched flavour and tried not to gag.

"You don't have to rush, you know?" he called after her as she mumbled her thanks and dashed out into the kitchen to retrieve her clothes.

"I have to be at work in five minutes," Hermione argued.

"I can guarantee that your overseer will be late, Hermione," Charlie laughed, watching her turn the gas stove on to boil the kettle for him even as she pulled her jeans on.

"That's really not the point," Hermione argued with him some more, squiggling into her jeans and racing to the door to collect her shoes, "I should've been ready by now. I should be there by now! Why didn't I even think last night that I could have just Floo'd to my place from here?"

"Because we'd both had enough drink to kill a troll?" Charlie suggested and Hermione tried really hard not to notice the fact that he was wandering around with no shirt on. He had donned a pair of jeans, though Hermione noticed he'd yet to button them up. He was wandering around scratching at his chest idly and looking like he needed to get to work.

"Don't you need to be at work by seven as well?" she asked him, grabbing a pinch of Floo powder and clambering into his fireplace.

He merely shot her one of those smouldering expressions Hermione so enjoyed before she dropped the Floo powder and disappeared. She landed in her own cabin and raced for the bathroom, groaning when she caught sight of her hair in the mirror. She hadn't gotten it wet so it wasn't a complete nest, but it seemed sleeping with Charlie's hands in it hadn't done her any favours.

She didn't even have time to charm it. Cursing under her breath, Hermione flipped her head forward, gathered the riotous curls into a thick bundle and used a hair elastic to tame it all into a messy bun. She was sure her day would consist of shovelling dragon dung and other such things, so she hardly thought she needed to look professional and ready to meet the queen.

When she was done Hermione grabbed her toothbrush, squirted some paste onto the brush and stuck into her mouth, scrubbing furiously at her teeth. Yesterday's jeans would have to do as she'd yet to unpack any others and Hermione surveyed her appearance in Charlie's jersey while she scrubbed. It was comfortable to wear and she would very much like to keep wearing it, but Hermione got the feeling that would look really bad. Especially given everyone would think she'd slept with him last night.

That, in itself, would be bad enough. But the truth was worse. She hadn't slept with him because he'd been called away to handle a dragon issue and hadn't returned until much later, injured, and quiet enough that he hadn't even woken her up when he snuck in. She'd slept in his bed because she been too drunk to find her own bloody house and she didn't want to have to explain that to anyone.

Ripping the jersey off over her head as she raced into her own bedroom, Hermione chucked the garment on the bed and fished out one of her tank tops instead. She'd been told to dress ready for hard work where she was likely to get hot and sweaty, so that's what she did. Pulling a black tank top on over her sports bra, Hermione grabbed her deodorant can and doused her armpits thoroughly. She already had her shoes and socks on.

Racing back into the kitchen, Hermione was once again grateful for her own preparedness when she found her backpack already packed and ready to go. She grabbed her pre-made lunch from the fridge, skolled all the water in her drink bottle before refilling it, scooped up a snack bar since she didn't have time for breakfast and dashed out the door. As soon as she reached the porch, Hermione turned on the spot and apparated over to the entrance to the Dragon sanctuary where the enclosures and the dragon-clinic were located.

Hermione landed and righted herself, trying desperately not to vomit up all the water she'd just downed. When she had herself under control, Hermione glanced around the entrance and realised she was alone.

Had they started without her? Glancing at her watch, Hermione saw she still had a couple of minutes to spare before seven, so she wasn't technically late. Where were they? The information she'd been given said all the Dragon Tamers and Keepers within the sanctuary began their day at seven. Wandering around, Hermione found a section where she assumed everyone was supposed to check their stuff in.

She fished her information sheet from her bag and discovered her locker number and combination before locating that locker and opening it up. She squeaked in surprised when she opened it and discovered someone had clearly intended to surprise her and make her first-day special. Inside the locker was a plush toy in the shape of an Antipodean Opaleye dragon the length of her forearm, along with a bundle of balloons that came flowing out of her locker tied on a string to a big card.

It wished her welcome and a happy first day in her exciting new career. Hermione grinned when she noticed that whoever had done this for her had clearly gotten everyone on the Dragon Tamer, Handler and Overseer staff to sign it, all of them leaving words of encouragement.

Hermione chuckled when she found the message Charlie had scrawled. It read:

**_You can't be a Tamer until you taste Dragonfire ~ Charlie Weasley._ **

She didn't know what it would mean to taste Dragonfire, but she hoped he didn't mean it literally. She couldn't help but smile as she read the well-wishes from the rest of the Tamers she'd met as well. Jason had written that he hoped she could take the heat. Caroline had signed it with the warning that if she couldn't handle the smell of dragon dung, she should switch careers now because everything else in the job was more disgusting and even less fun to play with. Sid had signed his name alongside a note promising to buy her the first drink of the night if she could get through the day without pissing herself in terror.

Hermione laughed when she read the message Harvey had left – recalling from last night's drinking that he had a twisted sense of humour. His note said that if she made it through the day without quitting to pick a new career, he would teach her the Peruvian Vipertooth mating ritual and perform it on her if she'd let him. There was even a message from Amy, though it was rather snarky. It warned that if anything chased her, she should run.

**_Dearest Hermione,_ **

**_Welcome to Dragonsmeade and your exciting new adventure! You haven't met me yet, but my name is Saskia. I'm one of the Dragon Nursey carers and I wanted to make sure you received a really warm welcome. Don't worry too much that some of the other idiots have left you dire warnings and are probably placing bets on how long you'll last. They like you, I promise. They're just mentally preparing themselves in case this lifestyle turns out not to be for you._ **

**_They've been burned a few too many times before with newbies who come over to Dragonsmeade from every corner of the earth thinking this will be the life they want, only to change their minds._ **

**_I've read your files though, Miss Hermione Granger, and I know you're not going to give up on us easily. I just wanted to make sure you had a really warm welcome here at the sanctuary and to let you know that if you need anything, you let me know, alright? A friend. A guide around town. Someone to box the ears of the other Tamers when they get short with you (ignore their moods until after lunch – they work long hours late at night and tend to drink too much most of the time). The point is, I'm here for everything you need and am happy to help in any way I can._ **

**_Your overseer will show you around today, so I'll probably see you when you come by the Nursery, but if not, I'll find you later. Okay? You won't be able to miss me when you see me, I promise. And don't let the others fill your head with lies about me, okay? They're rotten liars, the lot of them._ **

**_Enjoy your first day! I can't wait to meet you!_ **

**_-Saskia Kroshnovik_ **

The entire letter was surrounded by glitter and stickers and other extremely girly and perky looking things like streamers. Hermione felt a little bit alarmed but was touched that someone had taken the time to make her a welcome card and to make sure she felt like she was wanted here.

Tucking the card and the wayward balloons back into her locker, Hermione shrugged out of her backpack and stuffed it inside with everything else. She tore into her snack-bar hungrily and dug around for her purse when she spotted a girl across the street opening a small coffee shop. As soon as she snagged it, Hermione bounded towards the store.

"Hi!" the girl greeted her with a smile when she saw Hermione coming even as she opened up.

"Are you open yet?" Hermione asked the girl, "Sorry. That was rude. Hello. I'm Hermione. I'm new. Please tell me you're serving already?"

The girl began to laugh as Hermione rambled. Her nerves were getting the better of her as she waited for the other Dragon Tamers to arrive and waited for her overseer to turn up. She desperately needed caffeine or she was likely to get cranky since the hangover potion Charlie had given her had only achieved so much. Her head was still pounding and her stomach was churning.

"Did those bastards send you to fetch their morning coffee on your very first day, Hermione?" the girl asked her, "And I'm Suzy, by the way."

"It's nice to meet you, Suzy. And no. No one sent me. I'm supposed to be meeting my overseer at seven, but it's almost ten past and I'm the only person here."

"They're probably all hungover again. As for your overseer, I'm pretty sure that was meant to be Marla, but she got pretty banged up last night with Hercules. One of the other Tamers will take over the job, I imagine. How do you take your coffee?"

"Can you do a triple shot mochaccino with three sugars, four marshmallows and a vanilla shot? In the biggest cup that you've got?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"You got it," Suzy winked at her, "You seem pretty keen for today, all things considered?"

"All things?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh," Suzy paused and glanced over at her, "They um… I'm not supposed to tell you, but after what happened to the last newbie in training, I think I better… They're going to put you through your paces today Hermione. They'll wow you with the dragons, but they're going to make sure that every disgusting, gross, unpleasant and otherwise wretched job that comes with being a Dragon Tamer will be something you have to do today. They like to test the newbies on the first day with everything you might encounter in this job. They'll throw you in with a cantankerous shrew of a dragon and see how you do. They'll have you shovelling dung and scraping at scale-rot and other foul things that are going to make you gag. More than half the people who turn up wanting to take on this job end up quitting after day one. They prefer to put your through the paces and try to break you early so they don't waste time and energy training someone who will back out of the job a few months or weeks into it."

"They're already betting to see if I'll wet myself," Hermione nodded, accepting her coffee and drinking several large gulps. "They were running a pool on it at the pub last night."

"Oh, you've already met a few of them?" Suzy asked.

"Yeah," Hermione nodded, "I'm best friends with Charlie's youngest brother and spent most of my summers with his family when I was still in school. I met a bunch of the other Tamers last night at the pub. It's why I'm so desperately in need of this."

She hefted the coffee cup indicatively.

"Well, you're doing better than the rest of them so far. Have you eaten? They'll be a while yet. Usually, if they've had a big night like they did last night, or a bad night, which last night was, they don't tend to get here until seven-thirty. You've got time for something to eat if you want?"

"What do you have?" Hermione asked, "Keeping in mind that I'm hungover and that I'll be doing a number of disgusting things today and don't much fancy the idea of throwing up later."

Suzy laughed again.

"Well, at least you've got a sense of humour about it. The last newbie I warned nearly cried. She quit before she'd even finished her tour of the enclosures after what Marla put her through," Suzy told her, "In that case though, I recommend the savoury muffins. Fresh baked last night and coming in a number of flavours, they'll help soak up the alcohol in your system and aren't likely to make you throw up later when you're up to your elbows in dragon dung."

"Delightful," Hermione sighed, glancing over the muffins on the display case Suzy pointed to before settling on a bacon and cheese muffin.

Suzy heated it for her slightly and handed it to her on a plate with a bottle of sauce that she swore made it beyond delicious. Hermione decided she might as well trust the bubbly waitress and accepted both from her before tucking into the food.

She was just finishing off eating her muffin and downing the rest of her coffee when the first of the Tamers began to arrive. Hermione grinned a little when she spotted first Greg and then Sid arriving across the street. Both of them clutched at their heads and groaned at the effect of apparating.

"Ah shoot," Suzy cursed when more Tamers began to arrive, "They're a bit early. Shit. I'm not ready with all their coffees yet and they're going to be grouchy as shit until I get them caffeinated and fed."

"Do you need a hand?" Hermione offered, getting to her feet and carrying her plate around the counter without waiting for permission.

"Do you know how to make coffee?" Suzy asked.

"Not to café standards, but I can heat muffins and things if you need me to," Hermione told her.

"Um… yeah, they'll most likely all want a muffin this morning if they've had a rough night. Okay, could you warm up twelve more muffins? Nine of those savoury muffins and three sweet ones."

Hermione did as she was asked, waving her wand until each of the muffins was steaming while Suzy went to work steaming milk, pouring coffee and laying out large take away cups.

"Whose is whose?" Hermione wanted to know, picking up a big black marker.

"Oh, you're a lifesaver, Hermione," Suzy told her, "This one is for Sid. Harvey. Caroline. Jason. Charlie. Amy. Saskia. Ivan. Greg. Raja. Tatiana. Louis. And this last one is for you."

She pointed at each cup in order as she began fixing them and Hermione wrote the names of each person on the side before clipping a lid onto each enormous cup.

"Oh. You didn't have to make me another one," Hermione told her as she helped out. "Though I'm grateful."

"It's no problem. Now jump around the other side there before they see you and get ideas about making you their coffee girl until the next newbie shows up. They'll give you enough little minion-type tasks if you stick around as it is. You don't want them getting ideas."

"I'm glad I met you," Hermione told her.

Suzy smiled at her and waved her hand, "Get over there and greet them all until I'm ready, could you? You don't want them to think you're late."

Hermione did as she was told, taking her coffee and strolling across the street as more and more of the Dragon Tamers began to arrive.

"Bloody hell, Sid!" Caroline growled as Hermione walked into the shed where the lockers were, watching as most of the Tamers stashed their things in lockers and dug around, "Why the fuck did you make me drink so bloody much!"

"Me?" Sid snarled in return, "You were the one who kept insisting on the tequila shots with whiskey chasers!"

"Piss off, it was your idea to do shots in the first place!" Caroline argued right back.

"Jam it, the both of you," Jason snapped when he arrived, "Or I'm going to bash your heads together and see who splits first."

"Fuck you, Van Der Meene," Sid swore at the man in return and Hermione looked on with no small amount of amusement when she realised that her new colleagues were clearly as cantankerous as the beasts they saw to every day.

"Blow me, Reynolds," Jason retorted to Sid immediately.

Propping her shoulder against the wall just inside the door where she wouldn't be in anyone's way but could watch as the temperamental Tamers continued to argue and snarl at one another over who was to blame for their hangovers and who'd done what the night before, Hermione watched the carnage. When Charlie appeared on the scene, he looked mildly more revived than the rest of the team and Hermione noticed he'd been smart enough to collect his coffee and what looked like one of the sweet muffins from Suzy across the street before joining them.

He was tucking into the muffin hungrily and Hermione watched him with some amusement when he got powdered sugar on his nose while he scarfed down the food. He ignored his fighting colleagues even when Sid and Jason began shoving one another while he carried his bag to his locker and opened it one-handed.

He'd managed to button up his jeans in the twenty minutes since she'd left his cabin, and he'd found a shirt, though Hermione noticed idly that it was once against a sleeveless dragon-hide tunic designed to protect his torso from being roasted. His hair had been pulled into the leather throng he tamed it with, tied low at the back of his neck where it would be out of the way. The white bandaging around his shoulder was visible but as he ate his muffin and drank his coffee, he didn't give any indication that he was hurting from whatever Hercules had done to him.

"Oi! Where's mine, you bastard?" Greg demanded of Charlie when he spotted him polishing off the last of his muffin and drinking his coffee.

"Suzy's waiting on you lot with your food and coffee," Charlie shrugged at them, "Get it your bloody self."

"Bastard!" Greg accused. "What the fuck happened to you anyway? That fiery little kitten got rough with you, did she?"

He poked his finger at Charlie's bandages and Hermione got the feeling that the 'fiery little kitten' was her when Charlie slanted a glance in her direction, clearly aware of her presence though he'd yet to greet her.

"Hercules mauled Marla, Henry and Samson last night," Charlie said, looking back at Greg, "Gerry came to get me."

"Fuck!"

"Shit, are they alright?"

"How bad are they?"

Everyone stopped squabbling at the news, turning to look at Charlie.

"Marla's pretty messed up," Charlie sighed, "Hercules grabbed her and flung her around in his jaws. Nearly torn her arm off. She's out for a month at least. Henry and Sam both caught some claws and the fire when they were distracting Herc while the team got Marla out."

"Ah, shit," Caroline dragged a hand through her pixie-short blonde locks, "Got stroppy with you too, eh?"

"Caught me with his claws 'cause I was still fuck-eyed," Charlie shrugged.

"How's Herc?" Jason wanted to know.

"Sedated. They upped his dosage a bit more too," Charlie sighed, "Go on and get your food and your coffee, you lot. We're covering for the three of them today and we've got Hermione here for her first day of training too."

He nodded in Hermione's direction.

"Ah, you're alive then, kitten?" Sid grinned when he spotted her leaning against the wall and sipping her coffee.

"More so than you, by the looks of it," Hermione returned the smile, "Get on and drink your coffee before you vomit, would you?"

"Reckon Suzy's ready for us?" Caroline asked as they all began heading for the coffee shop.

Hermione didn't comment as she watched them go, shaking her head and chuckling a bit.

"Told you that your handler would be late, didn't I?" Charlie said when it was just the two of them left.

"Which one's in charge of trying to run me out of the dragon program today?" Hermione asked him, watching him stroll closer to her until he stood in front of her.

The sunlight gleamed off his fiery red hair and those wild-eyes surveyed her relaxed posture calmly.

"You were here before seven, weren't you," he smirked suddenly, eyeing her, "That's your second cup of coffee and you've already had breakfast."

"How do you know?" Hermione asked.

"This isn't Suzy's writing," he told her, tilting his cup towards her to show how she'd written his name in neat letters across the side of his cup, "I know your handwriting well enough to recognise it when I see it."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, "I wanted to be on time and the rest of you were late."

"You opened your locker yet?" Charlie asked her, seeming amused by her attitude.

"Mmhmm," Hermione hummed, "Tell me how one goes about tasting Dragonfire?"

Charlie laughed at her words.

"You'll see," he assured her, "Marla was supposed to be your handler while you're here, but after last night she's out of commission for a few weeks."

"Who's in charge of my training in her stead?" Hermione wanted to know, watching the still-grouchy Tamers across the street where they were tucking into muffins and skolling their coffee.

"Me," Charlie told her casually.

"Seriously?" Hermione asked, glancing back at him with wide eyes.

Hermione eyed him carefully, wondering if he was having her on. The last thing she needed was to complicate her crush on him even more by having him be in charge of her training. She couldn't be seen lusting after her boss.

"Told you that your handler would be late," he smirked again, looking amused when her cheeks turned pink in horror over her own thoughts and over the fact that she'd been cuddled up in his bed with him half an hour ago.

Hermione bit her lip, trying to hide her panic of the idea of him being her handler. It wasn't that she didn't relish the idea of working in close quarters with him or that she was bothered by the idea of having him teach her. But she'd been lusting after him for years. Being in his presence made her all hot and bothered. She'd been in bed with him last night, letting him kiss her neck and rubbing herself all over him.

As her boss and her superior, it would look bad if she was seen to be lusting after him or getting romantically involved with him. They could circumvent her training and claim she'd shagged her way through the testing with him being in charge of her training while she was there. If someone like Amy were to argue that she was incompetent and had been shagging the boss, she could be kicked out of the program.

Hermione felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as she stared at Charlie for several long minutes in silence. She'd just have to squash down her interest in him. As much as she burned for him, she wanted to complete her training more. Besides, she'd been squashing her interest in him since she'd first met him. What were a few more months or one more year?

"You alright with that?" he asked her, his eyes scanning her face carefully as he gauged her reaction.

Hermione nodded her head slowly, making sure to keep her gaze fixed on his freckled, handsome face rather than allowing herself to drink in the sight he made in his gear.

"So how about it, Hermione?" Jason asked, striding back over towards them near the entrance to the inner centre of the sanctuary. "Are you ready for your first day of dragon training?"

"Are you ready to lose money over betting I'd be out of here by the end of the day?" Hermione retorted, turning her gaze from Charlie and raking her gaze over the dark-haired Romanian Tamer.

"Ooh, getting cocky already there, girly?" he asked, grinning at her challenge. "Weasley you better not go easy on this one."

"Do I ever go easy on anyone?" Charlie asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Usually no. But this is Hermione we're talking about," Jason winked at Charlie in return.

"If you go easy on her, she'll automatically fail her training, Weasley," Amy piped up, having followed Jason over from the coffee shop.

"Hermione's never failed anything in her life," Charlie rolled his eyes. "I hardly think that there's anything that we can do to her that will break that record."

Hermione smiled widely at the praise.

"Not that I'm not going to try, mind you," he smirked at her suddenly, looking wickedly amused and more than a little dangerous.

"If she's still here by the end of the day," Harvey began, sipping his coffee.

"Please don't say it, Harvey," Hermione held up her hand. "Reading it in my welcome card from you lot was bad enough."

Everyone began to laugh at her words.

"Peruvian Vipertooth mating ritual?" Caroline asked.

"Mhmm," Hermione nodded. "Apparently there'll be a demonstration."

"Gross," Caroline wrinkled her nose. "Harvey, you're twisted. You know that, right?"

Harvey flipped her off and kept drinking his coffee.

"So, what have you got us all doing to pick up the slack, boss?" Sid wanted to know when he returned.

"You three can cover Samson's dragons," Charlie said, all playfulness and banter leaving the group suddenly as they got down to business for the day, "He's been trying to get Hera to go into heat too, so make sure you keep that up. Jace, I need you to handle Henry's ordering and stocktake until he's back on his feet."

"Got it, boss," Jace grinned and Hermione got the feeling that whatever the hierarchy was around here, Jace was Charlie's second in command.

"Tatiana, you and Amy handle Henry's Fireballs. Caroline, you take Sid and Ivan to handle the Ironbelly's. Harvey," Charlie said.

"Vipertooths?" Harvey interrupted, his eyes lighting up.

Charlie nodded, smirking at him.

"Saskia will handle things at the Nursery. The rest of you stick to your usual routine, but if something looks like it needs doing, do it. Me and Hermione will handle things here, so I need you lot out in the field," Charlie told them all.

"You're going to put her in charge of overseeing _all_ the dragons in here?" Amy demanded, narrowing her eyes and pointing indicatively to the sanctuary through the large wrought iron gates that led to the part of the enclosures where the injured, sick and breeding dragons were housed.

"Weren't you just whinging that I'd go easy on her?" Charlie retorted.

"Yeah, boss, but _all_ of them?" Sid asked, "That's over fifty dragons who need medication, sedation, cage-cleans, feeding, bathing, scraping, scrubbing. Hell, boss. I couldn't take on that many alone. It's her first bloody day."

"You take on more than that in the field," Charlie argued.

"Yeah, but they're all healthy and easy to look after. They hunt their own food, and don't need constant attention," Sid argued, looking puzzled about the workload Charlie apparently intended to give her.

"Well, they're all going to need your attention over the next couple of weeks," Charlie informed him. "Because they're all due for their inoculation and their medication in the lead up to the breeding season. I want every dragon on the reserve fit, healthy, and ready for the strain of breeding season. They're all due to be fitted with new trackers too. And that falls to each of you."

As a group, the gathered Dragon Tamers all groaned.

"Already?" Caroline demanded. "They were all tagged…"

"Three years ago," Charlie finished for her when she trailed off clearly trying to remember when the dragons had all been tagged, "Exactly. They're all due for new trackers. With the breeding season around the corner, I want them ready. I want the males strong, and the females fattening up to take the strain of pregnancy, egg-laying and egg-sitting. They've got to be inoculated so we don't have another Pox outbreak and they've got to be ready survive the mating rituals and the battles. Jace, I want you ordering triple the usual amount of food we need for the sanctum. Next few months will see most of the beasts coming through the gates for one thing or another."

"Ah hell," Greg grumbled, "We'll need to be ready for callouts too. The migration will have started last night. No wonder Herc was so stroppy. Shit."

The rest of the Tamers, suitably grumpy again, all accepted their orders and began stomping off towards their respective areas to handle their own jobs.

"There's no way she'll be able to take on the entire sanctum, Charlie," Amy stated, hanging back when everyone else left, "She'll take one look at those dragons and she'll turn tail to bury her nose back in her books."

"Amy?" Charlie asked, leaning forwards a little in a way that Hermione found sexy as hell. He sort of braced a little, like a big cat just waiting for his prey to put a foot out of line and make a mistake so he could lunge for the throat. Amy was clearly intimidated by the pose because she raised her eyebrows questioningly, but she also took a small step back from Charlie.

"Go handle your dragons and leave Hermione's training to me," Charlie commanded of the other witch, narrowing his eyes on her dangerously.

Amy didn't say another word, though she did pause to rake a hateful glare over Hermione before she turned on the spot and Disapparated with a crack.

Charlie loosed a small growl like he were a dragon himself, clearly annoyed by Amy's behaviour. He turned back to her slowly and Hermione found herself needing to tense her entire body to keep from throwing herself at him and rubbing herself all over him. He looked entirely like a predator, ready to breathe fire all over someone if they annoyed him and Hermione could tell he was still hungover and annoyed by their questioning of his Orders.

"Right. Come on," he told her, nodding her towards the gate into the sanctum, "You've got a lot of dragons to meet and a lot to learn."


End file.
